


the things we're blind to

by Noxnthea



Series: soft, sweet, sunshine things [1]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Clint barton is a ray of sunshine and Natasha will fight you if you think otherwise, Found Family, Idiots in Love, M/M, soft things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:56:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28662825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noxnthea/pseuds/Noxnthea
Summary: Clint doesn’t notice the way Bucky looks at him when he’s in the middle of patching Clint up after a fight, but Steve does.Bucky doesn’t notice how Clint always brightens whenever he’s around, but Natasha does.A romance told through what other people notice.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Series: soft, sweet, sunshine things [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2172792
Comments: 18
Kudos: 150





	the things we're blind to

**Author's Note:**

> Was feeling soft this Saturday, then this happened. 
> 
> Thanks to the whob discord for sprinting with me <3

Clint doesn’t notice the way Bucky looks at him when he’s in the middle of patching Clint up after a fight, but Steve does.

Sure, Bucky’s a mother hen through and through, always has been, but it’s different with Clint. And Steve would know, wouldn’t he? He’s been at the receiving end of Bucky’s worry for years, privy to enough ‘oh, come on, Stevie, again?’s and exasperated sighs to last a lifetime. He’s been bandaged up, forced back into bed, and brought tea or soup or medicine more times than he’d care to admit, especially since admitting so would land him right in the realm of Bucky’s fairly earned self-satisfied smirk and knowing ‘I told you so.’

Steve knows what Bucky’s like when he can’t help but take care of someone, which is why he knows that it’s something different with Clint.

Clint doesn’t notice the delicate way Bucky handles himself, the caution he shows while hovering, the way he waits before speaking sometimes, as though he’s afraid to say the wrong thing and hurt Clint’s feelings with the suggestion that he needs to be taken care of.

Steve’s spent enough time over the course of their lives together that he knows Bucky’s not afraid to manhandle people, not afraid to force them into accepting his well-intentioned care, not afraid to do whatever it takes to make sure that everyone he cares about is safe, healthy, and protected.

The first time Steve noticed Bucky helping Clint after a fight, he’d had to stop for a second, wondering why, for some reason, Bucky’d yet to drag Clint over to the waiting medics, despite how clearly he’d wanted to, what with Clint having fallen from a building into a dumpster in the middle of an attack on upper Manhattan. Steve had watched how Bucky’s fist clenched behind his back as he’d argued with Clint, other hand light and gentle in front of him, fluttering across Clint’s shoulder, hesitant to land and bruise Clint further.

Stepping around the pair, Steve had nearly tripped when he heard the tone of Bucky’s voice, the softness in his speech, the way the words ‘idiot’ and ‘can’t trust you to take care of yourself’ had managed to sound like gentle teasing instead of the harsh reprimands they’d been whenever Bucky had cuffed Steve after a particularly daring assault on a Hydra base just weeks earlier.

Clint hadn’t noticed the helplessness in Bucky’s eyes as Natasha grabbed Clint roughly by the arm, yanking him towards the medics with muttered insults in Russian and a nonchalance that spoke of years of having to deal with Clint’s incompetence. Clint hadn’t seen the way Bucky’s body turned to follow them as if incapable of doing otherwise, nor the war of emotions that fought over Bucky’s face as the two left him behind, flitting between concern, frustration and relief. Clint hadn’t seen the aborted step Bucky took in his direction, nor the downturn of Bucky’s lips as he decided to let Natasha handle things. Clint, for all his claims of having the best eyesight on the team, hadn’t seen the lost look on Bucky’s face as he stood motionless, panicked civilians running around him through the dusty debris, before walking away with his head down, a caretaker robbed of his ability to take care of what he cared about most.

Clint didn’t notice, but Steve did.

* * *

Bucky doesn’t notice how Clint always brightens whenever he’s around, but Natasha does.

 _Solnishka_ , Natasha sometimes calls Clint, ever since realizing how much like a ray of sunshine Clint can be, how much genuine happiness he brings to Natasha’s life after years of shadows. When Clint found her, it had taken months for Natasha to recognize that the compassion and affection he showed her was something that could be trusted, his caring heart a breath of fresh air unrecognized for what it was in the repressive smog of a lifetime lived under polluted, cloudy skies.

Natasha is well-used to the way Clint’s self-deprecating jokes can lighten the mood of any room, just as she’s accustomed to how his trips and stumbles, capers and mumbles are often ways to break the tension in a moment full of contentious attitudes and defensive posturing.

She’s also familiar with how quickly Clint’s sunshine can dim, how often his playful banter is a cover for hurt, how frequently his laughter is a facade for real concerns of inadequacy and self-doubt.

Natasha is a master spy, though she needs no training to know when her best friend is pretending to be happy.

Natasha is an expert in all things Clint Barton, which is why she notices how Clint always brightens whenever Bucky is around.

There’s a casualness in the ease of Clint’s smile whenever Bucky makes a joke about his caffeine addiction that speaks of warmth and a level of comfort that Clint is hesitant to offer anyone outside of Natasha and Phil.

There’s the way that Clint’s body language relaxes when the pair of them compete at the range, rifle and bow firing shot for shot as minutes turn into hours, sheer skill bleeding into trick shots and laughter about absurd patterns punctured in targets, tattered feathers and target stuffing scattered, drifting through the air like delicate winter snowflakes caught out of season in a warm summer’s breeze.

There’s the way that Clint’s eyes crinkle in pleased satisfaction when Bucky sits next to him at the dinner table or on the couch during a movie night, the way he orbits around Bucky during their downtime like he’s reversing the order of the universe, setting the sun to drift slowly around the Winter Soldier’s cool Earth, determined to bring warmth and life to something left too long in the darkness.

There’s a genuine happiness in the glow of Clint’s smile when he’s around Bucky that Natasha didn’t know Clint was capable of finding for himself, no matter how easy it is for him to feign around those who don’t know him.

Natasha’s spent more than a decade observing how Clint’s sunshine can be as real as the rays that beat down in a scalding summer or as false as those seasonal depression lamps popular in the Pacific Northwest, a poor substitute in the oppressive eternal gloom of a rainy autumn.

Bucky doesn’t notice how Clint brightens whenever he’s around, but to Natasha, it’s a radiance that eclipses everything.

* * *

Clint doesn’t notice how everyone on the team relies on him, but Bucky does.

Bucky knows what it’s like to feel inadequate and out of place and unwanted, but he can’t wrap his mind around how Clint seems to feel the same way.

Clint self-deprecates like a champion, constantly speaking poorly of himself, down-playing his importance and pivotal position on the team. Clint backs away from praise like it’s a trap not to be trusted, like he feels himself undeserving of even the slightest recognition. Clint grins, shakes his head, and waves his hands to the side at the mere suggestion of having done something useful, deflecting the conversation away to things other people had done that were flashier, louder, or drew more attention.

Clint’s so busy directing the attention away from himself that he doesn’t notice how much the team relies on him, but Bucky does.

Bucky sees how Steve always asks for Clint’s advice before staging an attack on enemies, a captain utilizing the expertise of a soldier determined to never be a leader. Clint offers his suggestions as though they’re just casual observations, as though he expects Steve to brush them off, rather than lean into them and rewrite the entire plan, which is what often happens. Bucky knows how stubborn Steve is, so he knows how important Clint’s opinions must be for Steve to take each of them into consideration.

Bucky sees how easily Clint manages to work his way into Bruce’s de-stress routines, how quick Bruce is to laugh at Clint’s gentle ribbing at the merits of proper caffeine, even as Clint throws back what he calls ‘hot grass water’ during Bruce’s previously solitary post-battle routines. Bucky’s walked in on the pair of them and Natasha all inverted on yoga mats, a calm serenity floating through the common room, gentle peace more powerful through the presence of friends.

Bucky knows what it’s like to feel like you don’t belong somewhere, so it’s hard for him to believe that Clint feels that way about the Avengers, not when all the evidence points to the contrary.

Bucky often finds himself at the outside of the group at the end of the battle, or the last one to arrive in the common room, so he’s seen how Wanda and Pietro flock to Clint’s side like he’s a homing beacon, a touchpoint for their continued comfort in a country not their own, a home far from anything they’ve ever known. He sees the way that Pietro’s teasing of Clint, calling him ‘old man’ and mocking his lack of enhancements is the same way any insecure teenager would treat their father, a bristly kind of affection for comfort not wanted, but sorely, sorely needed. He sees the way Wanda lights up at his praise, curling under his arm regardless of their location, be it at the tower or on the battlefield, as though his shoulders offer her more protection from the wide, scary world than her own magical shields ever could.

Bucky’s a man out of time, worlds away from the things he knew to be true, years away from a reality where he fit in, so he recognizes how Clint doesn’t realize that when Tony Stark asks for his recommendations on new inventions, he means it. He sees how Clint misses Tony’s genuine thoughtfulness in the midst of cracks about ‘birdbrains’ and ‘circus brats’, how Clint doesn’t see that Tony actually cares about Clint’s feedback on everything from new arrowheads to JARVIS’ security parameters to adjustments that need to be made to the communal coffee machine.

Clint doesn’t notice how much the rest of the team needs him, so of course he doesn’t notice how much Bucky does, either.

Clint doesn’t notice how Bucky asks for his advice on the missions when they’re both set into sniper positions, just like how he doesn’t notice how Bucky’s incorporated him into his own de-stress routines, winding down after a mission with Mario Kart or Schitt’s Creek marathons. Clint doesn’t notice how, if he was allowed, Bucky would spend just as much time at his side as Wanda and Pietro, finding solace and shelter in Clint’s easy warmth, a balm that makes Bucky forget how terrible the rest of the world can be sometimes. Clint doesn’t notice how much Bucky actually cares about what Clint has to say, and he worries about how much his affections towards Clint get lost in translation, genuine fondness and attachment filtered through insulting nicknames and verbal sparring.

Clint doesn’t notice how much the team relies on him, and he really doesn’t notice how Bucky does.

Bucky doesn’t know whether he wishes Clint would or not.

* * *

Bucky doesn’t notice how much everyone wants him around, but Clint does.

When Bucky had arrived at the tower, a bruised and battered kitten taken in from the drenching downpour that was the monsoon of a life Hydra had dragged him through, he’d been rightfully wary of his acceptance on the team. When he’d shown himself within days to be the kind and caring friend from Steve’s past, another tortured soul on a mission for redemption, the team had opened their arms to him in recognition of a fellow traveler on the path towards atonement.

Bucky doesn’t see everyone’s welcoming gestures for what they are, though, continuing to exclude himself, holding himself back from the compassion everyone is dying to help him experience.

Clint helped bring Natasha in from the cold, so he knows what it means when she gives her favorite set of throwing knives to Bucky one day in the kitchen, a false casualness in the way she’d told him she hoped that a decent set would see him on the range to practice together soon.

Clint knows how hesitant around strangers the Maximoff twins are, so he understands how significant it is when Pietro challenges Bucky to an eating competition, just like it was important when Wanda invited Bucky to observe Rosh Hashanah with them the first summer after he’d come to the tower, despite the darkness she’d seen in his past when helping to remove the trigger words.

Bucky’s so convinced that he doesn’t belong anywhere that he doesn’t see how much every single person on the team wants him to be happy, and is willing to do whatever they can to make it so.

Clint was there when Bruce was first learning how to deal with his anger issues, and has walked alongside him as he figures out how to navigate his place in a world where he has to be a weapon sometimes, so when Bruce reaches out to Bucky instead of removing himself from the unknown variable that might trigger an adverse reaction, Clint knows how much it matters. Bucky and Bruce’s conversations about favorite types of curry soon blossomed into discussions of regional cultures observed by both men in darker times of their life, eventually transitioning into deep discourses on the natures of humanity and astrophysics and forgiveness and growth. Clint knows just how rare it is for Bruce to welcome anyone into those talks; those are conversations Bruce normally saves for himself in the depth of his own reflections on self-acceptance.

Clint spent years with Steve out of the ice before Bucky came back, so he knows how much it hurts Steve every time Bucky declines an invitation to spend time together, or doesn’t show up to a team bonding session. Clint knows that it’s fear holding Bucky back, fear and the niggling doubt that someone like him deserves his best friend’s devotion, but Clint can read as clear as day that Steve wants Bucky around more than anything, and would bend over backwards to help him find happiness.

Clint knows that there’s almost no-one in the tower who wants Bucky around as much as Steve does, but he’s starting to feel like he might be able to compete, if the way he feels when Bucky’s around says anything.

Clint’s never felt as vulnerable as he does when Bucky’s around, as accepted and appreciated as he does when Bucky compliments him at the range, as hopeful and light as he did when Bucky remembered his order from their favorite pizza place one night when they’d both stumbled into the common area, chased by nightmares of other people’s making.

Clint doesn’t think that Bucky notices how much Clint wants him around, but he really, really, wishes he would.

* * *

Clint doesn’t notice that Bucky looks at him like he’s the moon, the stars, and everything in between, but Tony does.

Bucky doesn’t notice that Clint has forgone his morning coffee on multiple occasions in favor of spending time with him, but Tony does.

Tony, who knows well exactly how he himself looks at Steve, and exactly what it means for his fellow caffeine addict to skip a cup, has noticed that Clint and Bucky are nothing if not hopelessly in love with each other.

_“These two are almost as dumb as we were,” Tony says to Steve while they watch Bucky and Clint argue over whether a pizza and coffee only diet is sustainable. Steve sighs, then nods._

* * *

Bucky doesn’t notice how Clint always makes sure to include him in team events, but Pietro does.

Clint doesn’t notice how he’s the only one Bucky lets into his personal space besides Steve, but Wanda does.

Wanda and Pietro, who know what it’s like to be the outsiders and have only one person to rely on, who each keep a personal bubble so big they’re almost as powerful as Wanda’s magical ones, have noticed that Bucky and Clint are nothing if not perfect complements to each other’s vulnerable souls.

_“Do they not see how perfect they are for each other, one grumpy old man for the other?” Pietro asks his sister, who shakes her head as Clint and Bucky wrestle for control of the T.V. remote._

* * *

Clint doesn’t notice that Bucky is calmer around him, open and gentle, a maelstrom of emotions soothed in an instant, but Bruce does.

Bucky doesn’t notice that Clint walks with more confidence around him, false trips and stumbles long forgotten, but Bruce does.

Bruce, who is well-versed in recognizing and battling emotions, who knows how much internal strength it takes to walk tall after years of convincing himself that he deserves to be as small as the dirt he stands on, has noticed that Bucky and Clint are each so much on their own, but undoubtedly bring out the best in each other.

_“Isn’t it incredible how the universe creates moments like these?” Bruce murmurs to himself, watching the screens on the Quinjet as Bucky and Clint take down AIM fighters in perfect harmony._

_“If love and fate were real, I’d believe we were watching it play out right now,” Natasha says from beside him, her approach silent, her words soothing._

* * *

Bucky and Clint don’t notice how much they mean to each other, until, one day, they do.

**Author's Note:**

> apparently when I told myself to try and be romantic, my brain said okay, here's some alliteration and repetition.
> 
> [tumblr!](https://noxnthea.tumblr.com/)


End file.
